


In the Evening Air

by peculiarmars



Series: When You Break [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Autistic Draco Malfoy, M/M, mentions of other autistic character, sixth year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11072706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peculiarmars/pseuds/peculiarmars
Summary: "I'm not a Death Eater, you know." Malfoy said suddenly. Harry stared at him."You're not?" Harry tried to keep the shock from his voice. He didn't think he done a very good job of it.





	In the Evening Air

**Author's Note:**

> this is my fav thing I have ever written, and it actually has a plot, which will start to unfold in the next few updates.  
> \+ I might do a filler with Ron and Hermione, bc I feel like ive been neglecting them  
> +I want to do more with the Slytherins bc I have also been neglecting them too  
> +I added in autistic!charlie bc it is possible that Charlie is autistic, and his obsession is dragons.

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione asked. Her, Harry and Ron were in the common room doing an essay from Snape. Or rather, she was doing the essay, Ron was trying and Harry was too distracted to even bother trying to concentrate.

 

"What do you mean?" He asked, twirling his quill in his hand. Hermione sighed, lowering her voice to a whisper.

 

"Ron told me about how you're sneaking out every night, meeting Malfoy, Harry, we're worried about you."

 

"She's right, Harry. What do you and Malfoy do, anyway?" Ron interjected. Harry fiddled with his quill, contemplating on how much to tell.

 

"The Room of Requirement. I'm teaching him defence." He whispered.

 

"You're what?" Ron said, his mouth hanging open.

 

"Oh Ronald, close your mouth. Did he come to you?"

 

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he asked me to meet him a couple of weeks ago." And then he stopped and thought about that blanket Malfoy had. Both Hermione and Ron were smart - surely they might have answers about what it was? "Guys, what do you know about weighted blankets?" He asked. Hermione blinked at him.

 

"Weighted blankets? Why?" Harry shrugged, trying to be vague.

 

"Malfoy has one, doesn't he?" Ron guessed. It was Harry's turn to gape.

 

"How did you know that?"

 

Ron went red. "Well, it isn't difficult to figure out. I mean, we're talking about Malfoy and suddenly you're asking about weighted blankets."

 

Hermione was looking at Ron with a look of fondness. Then she turned serious. "Aren't weighted blankets sometimes used for autistic children?" She asked. Ron nodded.

 

"Yeah, Charlie has one." He said.

 

"Charlie's autistic?" Harry asked. Ron had never told him about it, but he guessed there had never been a need to.

 

"Yeah. He doesn't hide it. He was diagnosed when he was six or seven. Mum got him the blanket because he liked the pressure of it." Ron explained. Harry could see the gears turning in Hermione's head.

 

"I think Malfoy might be autistic." Harry blurted. He slapped a hand over his mouth after he realised what he had said. He had promised, to keep Malfoy's secret, and now he had blurted it out!

 

"Apart from the blanket, what makes you think that?" queried Ron. Harry shrugged, looking around the common room for something to distract them.

 

"Oh, you know, just some of things he said-" He unfolded the map as he spoke, searching for the familiar name. "- about stuff. Really vague." He kept his gaze on the map, not seeing the worried look his friends both shared.

 

Hermione leaned forward, placing her hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to. But be careful, Harry. This is Malfoy we're talking about. I don't want you to get hurt."

 

As her voice trailed off Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy. The map told him he was down by the lake, alone. Harry shoved the map back into his pocket.

 

"Uh, thanks. I won't. I just realised that I left my, uh, potions book in Slughorn's classroom." He got off the couch, pointing to the portrait hole. "I better go get that." He quickly rushed out of the portrait hole, leaving Ron and Hermione to their thoughts.

 

"His Potions book is on the table." Ron pointed out. Hermione sighed.

 

"I think we can all guess what he's really doing."

* * *

 

 

Harry wrapped his arms around himself as he walked down to the lake. The chill evening air bit as his skin as he walked through the grounds. When he got down to the lake, he saw that the surrounding area was completely empty, deviod of any students. Harry was stumped. He unfolded the map and checked it again, and it still said that Malfoy was down by the lake. Harry glanced uneasliy as the water, sparkling in the moonlight, and wondered if maybe Malfoy was in the lake and not around it.

 

"Potter." Said a voice from beside him. Harry jumped around and caught a flash of white-blond hair, half hidden behind a large tree. Harry jogged over to him.

 

"Hey, Malfoy." He said as he collapsed behind him. He saw that Malfoy had another bottle in his hand.

 

"Potter, Potter, Potter, " He mumbled. "Merlin, I'm pissed again." Just like he had on the Astronomy tower, Harry eased the bottle from Malfoy's hand. He noticed that Malfoy had a bite mark on his hand, on the skin between his forefinger and thumb.

 

"Where'd that bite mark come from?" He asked. Malfoy shrugged.

 

"Stress," Malfoy didn't say anything else. He and Harry sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, listening to the minute splashes coming from the lake behind them and the occasional call of a bird.

 

"I'm not a Death Eater, you know." Malfoy said suddenly. Harry stared at him.

 

"You're not?" Harry tried to keep the shock from his voice. He didn't think he done a very good job of it.

 

Malfoy fidgeted. "No. I know that you and your little _friends_ -" he said the word like it was poisonous, "- think I am, but I'm not. You have to kill someone to become a Death Eater."

 

Harry was confused. "You said that he'd kill your Mother. What did you mean by that?"

 

Malfoy gulped, playing with the sleeves of his robe. "I have a task to complete, before I become a Death Eater. If I don't do it, my Mother will die. I don't want to be a Death Eater, but I don't want my Mother to _die_ because of me!" Malfoy tightly shut his eyes, staunching the tears he could feel trying to flow. Harry was at loss for what to do. He gently slipped his hand into Malfoy's, expecting the other boy to push him away, and was surprised when Malfoy squeezed his hand.

 

"Is - is there anything I can do to help?" He asked quietly. Malfoy shook his head.

 

"If you know what it was, there would be no way you would want to help me. You would report me to the Aurors." He stated. Harry thought back to the cursed necklace Katie had touched, the one that had almost killed her. He had been sure that it was Malfoy's fault - Malfoy had basically confessed - but why would he target a student? And why would You-Know-Who want someone like Katie Bell dead-

 

 _Oh. Oh, no_. Harry thought he was going to be sick as the pieces put themselves together in his head.

 

"You have to kill someone, don't you?" He guessed, though he knew it was right. The nauseated look on Malfoy's face confirmed his suspicions. "Oh, god!" He said.

 

"See, Potter? No-one can help me. I kill them, and I become a Death Eater, I don't and my Mother dies!" He let out a sudden sob, burying his face in his knees. "I hate this, I hate it, I hate it!" He slammed his feet down onto the ground, whether in anger or fear Harry didn't know. Malfoy was squeezing Harry's hand so hard it was starting to hurt.

 

"We'll figure something out," He reassured, rubbing Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy snorted through his sobs.

 

"Like what? There's nothing I can do!"

 

"You could go to Dumbledore, he would help." Harry suggested.

 

"Are you really as stupid as you look? I can't go to Dumbledore, I'd be arrested!" Harry chose not to be offended by the insult. He'd heard worse from Malfoy over the years. Malfoy's sobs eventually quietened down, and he was left at the stage where he let out sudden hiccups.

 

Harry looked at the bottle that Malfoy had been drinking from when he had saw him by the lake. It was almost empty. "Christ, Malfoy, did you drink all of this?" Malfoy nodded.

 

"It makes everything less, you know." Harry didn't.

 

"Less what?" He asked. Malfoy flapped his hands.

 

"Less loud and bright! More easy to handle." Harry nodded, sort of starting to understand.

 

They settled into another silence. Harry was desperately trying to think of a way to help Malfoy. He understood that authority figures were off the table, but Hermione and Ron would surely be able to help. Malfoy suddenly broke their silence.

 

"You know, Potter, you're not a bad hugger." He said. Harry smiled.

 

"Good to know that you approve." said Harry, wondering if it would be inappropriate to ask Malfoy about his blanket. Curiosity got the better of him. "That blanket, the one you had a few days ago, it's weighted, isn't it?"

 

Malfoy froze. "Yes," He sounded like he was clenching his teeth.

 

Harry nodded. "Oh, okay. I was just wondering."

 

"You have questions. Ask them."

 

Harry worried his lip, trying to word them in a way Malfoy wouldn't find offensive. "Why is it weighted?" He eventually settled in. Malfoy sighed.

 

"The pressure is nice when I'm upset." He said. "Father discovered that when I was very young. I used to steal all of his heavy robes and cloaks and horde them in my room." He said distantly. "It took him ages to realise. It's why I have the blanket, he got sick to death of his clothes disappearing. Mummy - _Mother-_ made the blanket and charmed it to always be the right pressure."

 

"Your Mother sounds nice." Harry said, thinking of his own mother.

 

"She is. Father sometimes got angry, when I didn't do things like a normal child. He didn't understand like my Mother did. She didn't get angry, no matter what I did. Even when I said things I probably shouldn't of."

 

"What did you say?"

 

"We had this gardener, once. He was Welsh. When I was seven, most of my speech was copied from other people. I had trouble putting words together if I didn't hear them first-" Malfoy explained, "- and this gardener swore a lot. I had been in the garden all day on my broomstick and happened to hear a lot of colourful phrases. That night at dinner, my father knocked over his wine glass. You can imagine the shock on both my parents faces when their seven-year-old came out with 'Oi, ye fecking manky bastard!'" Malfoy finished with a snort.

 

Harry couldn't help but snicker. "Christ, Malfoy. I didn't even know what they meant until I came to Hogwarts!"

 

Malfoy smiled at Harry's laughter. Without realising it, the boys mouths were only inches apart. Malfoy leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to Harry's. He pulled back a second later, tense. "I shouldn't of done that."

 

Harry was in shock, but in a good way. The feeling of Malfoy's lips on him was nice.

 

And then the realisation of why he had always been so fixated on Malfoy slammed into him. All those thoughts, trying to one-up Malfoy for all these years, trying to impress him. He had been crushing on Malfoy for years and hadn't realised. How did he not _see_ it?

 

But now he knew, and he realised he wanted to do it again. "Did you not enjoy it?" He tried not to sound upset. Malfoy's breath was hot on his cheek when he spoke.

 

"I've been wanting to kiss you since fourth year," He confessed.

 

Harry leaned forward. "Then do it again."

 

That was all Malfoy needed before he softly pressed his lips to Harry's again, this time for longer. Malfoy's hand rested on the back of Harry's neck, and Harry's hands were on Malfoy's shoulders. He slipped his tongue in Malfoy's mouth, and Malfoy broke off the kiss.

 

"Sorry, was that too much?" He asked concernedly. He didn't want to have this beautiful thing with Malfoy and then loose it as soon as he found it.

 

"I just don't like having soft things in my mouth. I just don't like the feel of it."

 

Harry nodded. "Okay, no tongue, I get it."

 

Malfoy chewed his lip. "It's getting late. Pansy can only cover for me whilst she's doing her rounds. I have to get back or she'll send someone after me." He shifted, brushing imaginary dirt from his robes.

 

"Oh," Harry said, doing a terrible job of hiding his disappointment. Malfoy rolled his eyes at him.

 

"I didn't say we'd never do this again. Meet me here tomorrow, same time. I want to practice again." Malfoy stumbled over his feet. Harry bit back a snort.

 

"So graceful, Draco." He grinned, feeling light, as if he was the one who was drunk. Malfoy mock-glared at him.

 

"Then be a gentleman and walk me back."

 

If he got any lighter then he was sure he was float.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry crept into his dorm, cursing himself for not taking his invisibility cloak. He had managed to get through the rest of the school easily enough, as it was empty, but creeping to his bed was a slight problem. The slight problem was that it was pitched black and he had no idea where was standing.

 

"Lumos," Someone whispered helpfully. Harry's path was suddenly lit up, and he gratefully found his bed.

 

"Thanks, Ron." He whispered.

 

"How come you're back so late?" He asked.

 

"You know, just stuff." He said vaguely, too tired to think of a proper excuse.

 

"Harry, me and Hermione want to help. We don't exactly like him, but we know something's wrong."

 

Harry paused, thinking. "I'll talk to him about it." He said, before letting out a snore.

　

 


End file.
